


Pegged from the Start

by hotot, TheAmazingBlue_J



Series: Love Boat [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Humor, Light Bondage, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Romance, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6445081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotot/pseuds/hotot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmazingBlue_J/pseuds/TheAmazingBlue_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is no real moral to this story. Or even a story, to be honest. There is a lot of fucking though. Perhaps that is enough”<br/>- Oglaf<br/>Tina Shepard is the lusty, haphazard captain of the commercial  space cruise-liner, The Normandy.<br/>These are her exploits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pegged from the Start

**Author's Note:**

> So, a little bit about this au: The Normandy is a luxury cruise liner touring around the milky way galaxy, and Shepard is it's captain.  
> The next installment will have a better introduction to the characters and setting, but this is the first bit we wrote and we couldn't wait to share it
> 
> This started as a joke, but now it's actually come into being. Gods save us all.  
> (also, you're welcome)  
> -TheAmazingBlue-J

 

It was 9 o'clock and Shepard was drunk.  This was not unusual. She’d had dinner and an excessive amount of drinks with Liara, who had been hinting at wanting to stay longer, but had reluctantly departed to work on her tour script for the next day, and Shepard was left to her own devices, namely watching Zaeed bartend and trying not to drool. He was chatting up a young man, likely telling another outlandish story as he poured the drinks-- no flare, but tons of style. That man could bartend. She watched him laugh, that scar stretching tight across his grizzled features, and licked her lips. She crained her neck, head tilting slightly when he bent over to get something from the fridge, his tailored black work pants stretching taught over that delightful, perfect man-ass. He stood up far too soon for her liking, and she shifted a bit in her seat, suppressing a groan. Hopeless. She was hopeless.

She wasn’t left to mourn the loss of Zaeed’s perfect ass for long however, Gardner plopped a fresh drink down in front of her almost as soon as she tore her gaze from the bartender.

“You know, sitting in here every night off and drooling over his ass like a starving wolf isn’t gonna get him into your bed any faster.” Gardner shifted and tugged at his starched collar. “‘S’ides, I thought you already had yourself a fellow. Big spiky alien guy.”

Shepard laughed and picked up the drink absentmindedly. “Oh, I do. We have an arrangement.” She nearly choked on her first taste of the drink. “Fuck! What the hell is this?”

Gardner motioned to a young human sitting down at the end of the bar. “Hell if I know, compliments of that fellow.”

The drink was cloyingly sweet-- not that Shepard minded a nice cocktail once in awhile, but this was beyond foul, the taste of coconut and rum competing for dominance and neither of them coming out on top.   
“It tastes like soap,” she grumbled, as she looked over what sort of person would send such a preposterous drink. It was the man who had been talking with Zaeed. He was about her age, and was fidgeting as he caught her eye and jumped a bit. Oh sweet baby jesus, he was going to come over.

He wasn’t that cute, she decided, but he wasn’t horrible. What was horrible was the drink. And the heavy cologne that arrived ahead of him. What did he do, bathe in it? She tried to look to Gardner for help, but he had conveniently disappeared.

“Captain Shepard? I’m Conrad Verner.”

She offered him a seat. No need to be rude to a passenger. “Nice to meet you Conrad. Thanks for the uh... drink.”

“Do you like it?” He seemed younger than he looked, and somewhat nervous.

“Mmmmm… it’s an experience.” Diplomacy! Worked every time.

He seemed satisfied, pleased even, and favored her with a shy grin. “I’ve been taking cruises every year for the past ten years, and I just want to say that the  _ Normandy _ is the best liner out there. Best destinations. Best staff, and certainly the best Captain! You guys really get out to the dangerous parts of the Galaxy…”

Just because they had stopped on Omega that  _ one _ time with a boat load of passengers still on board, suddenly everyone thought they were a danger cruise? It had been an emergency… she’d run out of dental dams! Safe sex was important! So was oral sex. Vital for morale, even. A good Captain kept her crew happy, after all.

“Well, we do try to see to both the safety and  _ thrills _ of our guests.” Was that suggestive? She was pretty sure that was suggestive. Oh for fucks sake, now he was going to think she was hitting on him. Time for another drink. She cringed at the thought of her last one.  _ Anything but another one of those.  _ She looked around for Gardner, but caught Zaeed’s eye instead. Oh, balls. He was laughing at her. She tried to send him her best evil glare, but it was hard after… How many drinks had she had again? He seemed to waver a little bit and she wasn’t sure if the evil was effective. Probably not. No matter, she needed another. She sent another drunken glare in the bartender’s direction and motioned for him to pour her a drink. He shot a cheeky grin back and grabbed a bottle of whisky and two glasses, and brought them over himself, thunking the bottle down between her and Conrad. 

“Captain,” he said with a smirk that was just shy of unbearable. She curled her lip.  _ Don’t leer. Don’t leer at the new bartender.  _

Shepard snatched the glass he poured and took a swig. Oh, this was the good stuff. She assumed it would be going on Conrad’s tab, or she’d have a talk with Zaeed about breaking out the top shelf whisky for no damn reason. She let the liquor burn down her throat and warm her chest as her eyes followed that perfect ass as it made it’s way back behind the bar, before dragging her eyes back to the man who was actually occupying her table. 

She poured him a glass and shoved it towards him. He drank. She drank again. The liquor seemed to dull her senses, making the choking musk of cologne surrounding the table just a bit more bearable, and as she looked up to see if Verner needed a refill, his smile seemed a bit more charming. Oh balls.

 

* * *

Shepard dragged herself from the Shepard-Vakarian love nest with the utmost reluctance the next morning. Hungover as sin, bedraggled, and faintly mortified from her slip up the night before, she headed down to help Zaeed and Gardener open up the bar. 

Zaeed was behind the bar, dressed impeccably in his black and white getup, a little apron around his waist, sleeves rolled up to bare those muscled forearms adorned with his geometric tattoos.

“Morning Shepard,” he said in his gruff accent. Shepard decided to help open the bar by propping herself up on on it,moaning softly. She looked up to find a glass of fizzing water at her elbow. “Hair of the dog. Drink up.” She eyed the glass suspiciously. 

“S’probably poison...” She muttered under her breath, but obediently began to sip at the fizzy drink anyway. Gin was medicinal, right? It did help cut through a bit of the fog in her head. It seemed to be pounding with slightly less enthusiasm. It was helping, that meant it was medicine, and Miri couldn’t yell at her. But as the pounding in her head subsided, she began to once again fully appreciate the man currently bent over restocking the cooler with clean beer glasses. Her XO certainly  _ would _ yell at her if she acted on any of the thoughts suddenly running through her head. Like grabbing his ass. Or snapping at it with a towel. Or bending him over the bar... Yeah, that would definitely earn her a scathing lecture. But would it be  _ worth it _ ?  

Zaeed straightened up and caught her staring. “So, you’ll spend three nights in a row with your fuckin eyes glued to my ass, then you go and slobber all over the first damn fool who buys you a shitty drink?”

“Hey, you’re the one that brought over the whisky. What happened after that was out of my hands.”

“It was pity whisky,” he growled. “Felt bad after I told the kid to order you somethin’ frilly.”

Shepard gaped at him. “ _ You _ put him up to it. It’s  _ your fault. _ I can’t believe this.” Oh, Zaeed was in big trouble. 

“Never been pranked before, Captain? New crew’s all nice and shiny, kissin’ your ass--” Did he know how literal the ass kissing was, she wondered? He was grinning wickedly. 

“Do you know what I do to pranksters on my cruise liner, Mr. Masani?”

His grin faded into an unconcerned smirk. “Give em’ blue balls from all the ass ogling with no follow through?”

Shepard choked on her drink. She took a moment to clear her throat before responding. “Quite the opposite, actually.” Their eyes were locked across the bar, and Zaeed’s chin was rising in a clear challenge. One that she met head on “First, Mr. Massani, I make you lick my boot. Then, I make you lick my--”

The door burst open and Gardener bustled in, carrying a basket of linen and Shepard and Zaeed shouted “OUT!” In unison. Shepard added “Please. And lock the door,” in a more reasonable tone. Gardner didn’t even break stride as he deposited the basked on a table, did an about face and marched back out the door without saying a word. 

“You were sayin’ something about licking, Captain?” Zaeed’s gaze had never left hers, but now there was a measuring quality to his stare. His eyes were two different colors-- that milky eye on the scarred side of his face, the other a dark green that was glittering with something else, something hungry. She knew that look. Ohhh, he was  _ into  _ it. 

Without warning, she slid her drink away and vaulted on to the bar. Zaeed took a half step back, watching her warily. Startling him sent a bolt of desire through her, and she hopped down, taking a few quick steps until they were close-- her chest brushing his as he leaned away from her. He wasn’t tall-- no one was tall compared to Vakarian, anyway, and their noses were nearly of a height.

As he leaned away, she leaned closer, her voice low as she whispered “You want me to stop, Massani?”

He huffed at that, seemingly insulted. “Not bloody likely.” 

That was all she needed to hear, and before the words were out of his mouth she had twisted his arm behind his back and used it to spin him around, pinning him to the bar with her hips.

She bit at his earlobe and pressed her hips more firmly against his glorious ass before whispering to him yet again. “You just say the word, and I stop”

“What if I say stop but I don’t mean it?” He said into the glossy surface of the bar, his breath fogging below him, and he held very still. 

“You want a safeword, Massani?” Her voice was mocking. Oh, she loved calling him Masani. Great name to spit out. “Fine. Coconut rum.”

“Really, Shepard?” He tried to crane his neck around to get a look at her and she pressed it back down.

“Really. I’m serious. Say coconut rum and I stop. Also? Argue with me, and I stop. And… call me Captain…. Or I’ll stop.” She ground her hips into his backside again. His ass was nearly the perfect height, right against her hips, and her hand ghosted up his flank and then cupped his ass. It was all hard muscle, and felt better than she could imagined. She sighed happily. Shepard was definitely an ass man. He pressed back into her touch, his hips twitching slightly, causing her brow to raise and giving her ideas.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Massani?” she said, leaning over his body and running a finger over the cleft of his ass. “Is that what this is about?”  

He didn’t answer, just groaned and pressed his ass into her hand.

“That’s not an answer, Massani” she removed her hand and pressed her hips firmly against his ass again, grinding against him as she leaned over to speak into his ear. “I said, do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” he ground out, his voice gravely. “I want you t’fuck me, Captain.”

“Too bad,” she sighed, sounding regretful. “Fucking isn’t really a punishment, is it? And this is about punishment. You owe me for that godsawful coconut monstrosity.”

“Fucking can bloody well be punishment,” he said, trying to sound reasonable.

“Not when I do it,” she quipped back, and he laughed. She grabbed his ass again and gave it a firm squeeze. His laugh turned into a groan as her fingers found the soft spot where his thigh met his glutes and dug in. 

There was a lull in their banter as her hands roamed his backside, and after a moment he hazarded a question. “You want t’spank me, Captain? That be good enough punishment for you?” 

She pretended to think about that for a moment. “And how many strikes would you say you deserve for such an offense, Massani?”

“Ain’t that your call, Captain?”

“Good answer,” she said with a smile, “ten strikes with my belt will be satisfactory.” Well, not quite, but she’d get to the satisfaction later. “Strip.” She stepped back and undid her belt, snapping it from the loops with a hiss and the a crack of leather. Zaeed’s hands were busy with his own belt, and as soon as his waistband was loose enough, she jerked his trousers down around his thighs, finally getting a view of that perfect ass. He was an older man and his skin was a bit wrinkled, and he even had a few scars on one cheek, and a crude tattoo of a vaguely turian looking skull on the other. A fucking skull, right on his ass.  Looked like a stick and poke-- probably got it during the first contact war. He must have been… nineteen, twenty at most. This man was a magnificent bastard.. She’d have to ask for the stories of the scars and the tattoo later, make sure there wasn’t any lingering resentment there. Not likely, she’d seen him interacting with Garrus. As she watched the shirt slip off his well defined shoulders, she truly hoped there wasn’t. He was beautiful. 

She snapped her belt and he flinched. She felt a rush of glee at making the old vet so twitchy, and then she stepped forward and grabbed his ass again, smacking it firmly with the cupped palm of her hand. 

“Gonna warm you up, first,” she said. Zaeed groaned with each blow as she got to work with firm strikes to his backside, alternating cheeks. She growled in satisfaction as his ass grew flushed, until she was happy with her work and ready to punish him for the cheeky bastard he was.

“I want you to count each one,” she instructed, snapping her belt a few times to get a feel for it. Massani twitched again, and she grinned and brought the strap down across both cheeks with a profoundly satisfying smack, hard enough to raise a red welt. 

“One,” Zaeed ground out, half a groan. 

“Two,” he grunted as she struck him again. She took her sweet time, rubbing at the welts every few strokes to soothe the raw sting, and he dutifully counted each blow.

She paused to savor the sound when Zaeed barked under the seventh blow of the belt, smoothing her hands over the hot red skin. He seemed to be sweating, tiny beads of moisture forming on the back of his neck, and his face was flushed.

“You still with me, Massani?” She asked, her tone harsh, but her hands on his ass stayed soft, continuing to soothe. “I don’t think I heard you count that one off.”

Zaeed mumbled something into the bar top that sounded like ‘Fuck you,’ and she swiftly responded by giving him a sharp smack with her hand.

“Mind repeating that, Massani? Didn’t quite hear you.”

He turned his head to the side with a grunt, “I said, fuck you! I fucking counted it, fucking seven!”

“That’s better,” she said, tapping him lightly with the strap. “But saying ‘fuck you’ is rather rude, and I don’t tolerate rudeness on my ship.” 

Zaeed groaned. “What the hell d’you want from me, woman?”

“I want your respect, Massani. If all you can use that mouth for cursing me, I will find a better use for it.” She grabbed his face, bringing hers close in so their eyes locked again. She gauged his reaction to her suggestion, disguised as a command, her expression impassive, almost imploring, as if she was asking him if he’d like to join her for a picnic. 

He stared back defiantly, but one corner of his mouth had curled up slightly, _ oh, he wanted it _ . She had a brief flash of his head buried between her legs, desperate to please her. She smiled and his eyes widened in… hope?

“But first, you have three more lashes.” His smile faded. Apparently, he’d hoped she’d forgotten how to count. She stifled a chuckle.  _ No such luck, Massani. _

She straightened, pushing his head back down onto the bar and raised the belt once more. 

“Eight,” he barked out as she brought the strap down with a wicked slap. She quickened her pace, eager to be done with punishment so they could move on to educating him on the proper ways to use his smartass mouth.

“Nine,” he barked, in perfect time with the slap of leather on flesh. 

She paused and saw his legs trembling. Dominance was pure theater, and Shepard was very much in character. Her hand lingered over the red welts on his ass, admiring her handiwork. As good as his ass looked in his snug uniform pants, it was nothing compared to this. To him bare and trembling and raw in her hands. She’d have to thank whoever was responsible for hiring him. Send them a fruit basket or something. 

Bringing the belt down one last time, she relished the small moan that escaped Zaeed as he ground out “Ten,” before wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, half embracing and half hauling him upright. 

“Punishment completed. You are absolved of that little indiscretion.”

“Thanks ever so fuckin’ much, Captain,” he growled, but he was leaning against her, head tilted back to rest on her shoulder as he panted. 

She tutted. “Now we need to do something about that mouth of yours.” In a moment he was back down on the counter and she expertly wrapped her belt around his arms, just above the elbow, binding them together. He moaned again, putty in her hands. She could position him just so, and dragged him back, taking a moment to admire his muscled legs and the hard length standing at attention between his thighs before giving him a little shove.

“Stand still there and be a good boy.” She told him before turning to wriggle out of her navy dress pants and unbuttoning her shirt so she could get easy access to her chest, and to give him an eyeful of her curving chest, pressed into full cleavage by her push up bra. She wasn’t wearing any other underwear, and his eyebrows raised as she hopped up on the bar and spread her legs, his eyes dragged from her chest down to gaze hungrily at her sex, mouth slightly open, eyes hooded.

She crooked a finger and he rushed forward, leaning in to try and kiss her, but she pushed him back playfully. 

“On your knees, sailor,” she said and he stared at her for a moment before obliging. Her hand went to the hard line of his jaw, freshly shorn but already coarse with slight stubble. Her hand traveled up his face and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing slightly as he sighed.  _ What a softy, _ she thought, pleased. Her fingers came to grip what she could of the close cropped salt and pepper hair and then spread her legs and drew him to her wet sex. 

Humid breath on her thighs was the first sensation and then she felt his lips tracing the line of her curves up to the apex. He moaned, scenting her and she brought her knees further apart, hooking them over his shoulders and drawing him in with a slight jerk. His mouth opened to her, not tentative in the least, but slow, getting to know her taste and her contours.

She let her head drop back slightly as his tongue found her clit, a small pleading sound escaping despite herself when he retreated to press a kiss into her thigh. Growling a little in frustration, she took a firmer grasp of his head and pulled his attention back to where she wanted it. He worked clit with firm strokes of his tongue, interspersed with pauses and slower tours of her inner lips, sucking and stroking with steady enthusiasm, and no small amount of skill. Oh, she liked this. She liked this a lot. She wondered absently if he wouldn’t mind spending a few of his off duty hours under her desk when she had a particularly boring meeting.

This train of thought was lost, however, as he closed his lips around her clit and began to suck, stroking the tip with his tongue all the while. She gave out a husky moan and let herself fall back onto the bar, propped up on her elbows as he seemed to savor every taste of her. She heard her omnitool ping, but opted to ignore it. This wasn’t going to take long at their current speed, and if she was late? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Miri had covered for her.

His face was buried in her cunt now, his mouth sucking and his tongue flickering and then bearing down on her cilt again and again, building a steady rhythm that her hips couldn’t help but follow, rocking to get closer… closer...  _ Damn _ , he was good at this. She let herself go, reaching down to press his face closer as she arched up to meet him, her moan stretching out into a gasp as his teeth grazed her clit. Cheeky bastard. He responded with a groan of his own, pulling back to get a breath before diving in again and renewing his attentions on her abused clit. 

She could feel the heat pooling in her abdomen, until she was screaming with the intensity of pleasure he was building in her. Her fingers spasmed in his short hair, looking for purchase and finding none as she slipped over the edge. Her body stretched taut as waves of pleasure broke over and over, the muscles deep in her sex spasming and demanding release. Zaeed jerked slightly with a grunt of  _ bloody hell _ as Shepard felt wetness spread over her thighs, and pool on the bar under her ass. Before she had time to react, he was right back there, lapping up every drop from her sex and thighs with gusto, kissing and sucking on her lips through the aftershocks of her orgasam, adding little nips and moans of enjoyment as he went.

She let her legs relax and fall from his shoulders as she came down, content to let him lick her clean for a moment, her thumb tracing lazy circles in his close-cropped hair. She was smiling into nothing and he nuzzled her thigh, biting gently until she squealed and pushed him off. Post orgasm, she was heavy lidded and smirking, and Zaeed looked more than pleased with himself, his face slick with her fluids. He licked his lips, not saying anything but watching her, waiting to see what what was next. She had promised him a fucking, hadn’t she? Even if she hadn’t, she’d daresay he deserved one after that performance. 

Composing herself, she placed a foot on Zaeed’s shoulder and pushed him back until he was resting on his heels before sliding off the bar and turning to find her stash. Making sure to give him a show, she wiggled her ass as she sauntered to the corner and bent down to retrieve a small box tucked back behind a row of glasses. Always prepared, she made sure to keep a little something within easy reach no matter where on the ship she might be. Setting the box on the bar and pointedly not looking in Zaeed’s direction, she thanked her past self for thinking ahead and making sure  _ this  _ stash in particular contained one of her favorite cocks.

She took out the dildo, a bottle of lube, and a pair of black nitrile gloves, and watched as Zaeed’s eyebrows raised in interest, but not surprise. 

“You don’t seem surprised, Massani,” she said, waving the cock vaguely in his direction.

“You don’t think I’d snoop in my own goddamn bar? If it’s behind my bloody counter, I bloody well know about it.”

She chuckled a little. It seemed their little session had done nothing to clean up his mouth. Shepard found she was okay with that. “Oh I see, you planned this.” She laughed, feeling a little giddy. “You cheeky bastard,”

“Damn right I did, Captain,” he returned with a cocky grin. “Been thinkin’ bout how you’d look wearing that damn thing all week.”

“I love it when I make dreams come true,” she sighed. Something has shifted between them-- they seemed to be on more equal footing now, even though he looked adorable, shamelessly naked and squatting on his heels with his hands tied behind his back and his thick cock twitching in anticipation.  

She decided she’d made him wait long enough, and stepped into the specialized harness and settled the neural hookups into place-- the miracle that was contemporary sex science had created a strapon that would simulate having a cock. She’d have to add modern science to the list of fruit basket recipients. That list was getting rather lengthy. Speaking of lengthy…

She let her gaze drift back over to the man kneeling before her as she pulled on the gloves.  _ Oh shit, he’s still tied up.  _ “How’re your arms feeling Massani?”

“My fuckin’ arms are fine! now my cock’s another matter.. You gonna fuck me or just stand around being a goddamn tease?” He jerked his chin in the direction of her newly attached cock. “I assume you know how to use that thing?”

She laughed, her fingers wrapping around her shaft and suppressed a shiver as the nerve stim program kicked in. “I assure you, Mr. Massani, that lovely ass of yours is in good hands.”

Now, Shepard had a logistical problem-- not a bad problem to have, but one that would require her to make some choices. She had a vision of Zaeed kneeling on the bar, which would require the use of his arms to support himself while she fucked him, but but he looked so delicious tied up that she was loath to free him. She stroked her cock, considering, when the door to the bar whooshed open.

Shepard spun to face the intruder.  _ Damn it Gardener, I thought I told you to lock the… oh. _

“Shepard, you’re going to be late for your meeting,” Garrus said as he peered into the room.

_ Oh!  _ She beamed at her partner as he caught sight of her and his mandibles twitched into a lecherous smirk.

“My assistant has arrived just in time!” She almost shouted in her excitement. “Would you mind if Garrus helps out a little bit, Massani?” She matched Garrus’s grin and turned it on Zaeed, who hesitated, looking between Shepard and what he could see of Garrus from over the bar. 

“What’dya have in mind?” Shepard worried for a moment that a line had been crossed, but the look on Zaeed’s face wasn’t remotely uncertain. The man was  _ down to fuck. _ Even with the addition of a turian. Guess that answered the question of the skull on his ass.

“Well, if you’re okay with it, I’d love to see Garrus here put you on the bar so I can fuck you.” She looked at him questioningly, “ _ are  _ you okay with this?”

“I’m alright with it. Anything to get this show movin’. Hell, how’d the two of you feel if he were to stick around and stroke my cock? Can’t bloody well do it myself, now can I?” He said it blithely, but his eyes were on Garrus, as if he’d just taken a gamble and was waiting to see how the chips would fall. Obviously Zaeed didn’t know Garrus very well. Yet.

Shepard tore her gaze away from Zaeed’s eager face to send a wink in her mate’s direction. “Oh, I’m sure he could be persuaded, fine cock like yours.” The look on Garrus’s face was priceless. Well, if you were familiar enough with turians to read their expressions anyway. Mandibles twitched in interest, and Shepard noticed a distinct light in his sharp eyes, one that said he would not mind sticking around in the least. Shepard was always amazed at how quickly Garrus could switch gears from business to pleasure, and how well he mixed the two.

This was not the first time they’d found themselves in such a scenario. 

Zaeed grunted in surprise as Garrus was over the bar and boosting him up in an instant. Shepard noted idly that people who hadn’t spent much time with turians were usually surprised by their speed. Zaeed recovered quickly from his shock however, and being deprived of the use of his arms forced him to lean against Garrus’s chest as he was set down with his knees on the bar. 

Shepard hopped up behind him and let loose a friendly smack on his ass, the slap resounding through the empty bar. She caressed his ass a few times, pulling his cheeks apart and running a finger up his cleft. Zaeed moaned and Garrus grinned over the bartender’s shoulder at his mate. Taking a moment to lube her first fingers, she began to play with his ass, giving him a warm up, going slow and seeing how he was with fingers around his ass before she slipped the first digit inside, tight hand hot. Zaeed moaned again, and Garrus shifted, hefting him up. 

She began to work her finger deeper inside, adding a dribble of lube as she went, until she’d found a nice steady rhythm. 

“Think you can take another finger?” 

“You bet your sweet ass I can,” Zaeed said, voice a growl.

“Actually, it’s your sweet ass I’ll be betting today,” she said, giving the cheek with the turian tattoo a squeeze and withdrawing her first finger before pressing in two. Zaeed groaned and pressed into her hand, all hot pressure around her fingers. She let him adjust for a moment before she resumed her previous pace. 

This was definitely better than the scenarios her mind had come up with. She hadn’t dreamed he’d be so responsive and  _ eager,  _ not to mention apparently down for a threesome with Garrus. Perhaps her days of leering at his ass had been fueling his fantasies, escalating them to these heights. Whatever it was, she was glad it had gotten them to this point. The nerves in her cock were settling into a deep arousal, and she felt a twinge of need right at the base. 

She was going to need more lube. 

She almost thought she heard a low whimper escape Zaeed as she removed her fingers to reach for the bottle she’d left on the bar a foot away, and leaned into him with a jut of her hips, her cock pressing into his cleft as she squeezed some of the slick gel onto her hands. She definitely heard a whimper that time.

Shooting a glance at Garrus, she recognized the familiar signs of his arousal and gave him a small nod of approval. As she wrapped her slicked up hand around her cock and gave a slow pump, Garrus tilted Zaeed’s head back slightly with a questioning chirp. Shepard sat back slightly to watch as her mate and her bartender shared a hungry kiss, her chest swelling a little with affection for the both of them.

Shepard gripped her cock and nudged against Zaeed, rubbing small circles with the head of her cock. He moaned against Garrus’s mouth and arched back into the contact as she slowly leaned in until she felt the resistance give way and slipped into him. She rocked her hips experimentally, still going slowly, but Zaeed ground against her her and groaned, his hands clenching and wrists straining against the belt that bound him. Shepard chuckled and began to rock more forcefully, her hands going to his hips and pulling him tight to her as they moved together. 

She was somewhat startled as Garrus moved his hands to cover hers on Zaeed’s hips, and as she looked up to meet his gaze, he gave a familiar thrum of his vocal chords that she felt more than heard. Slowing her thrusts somewhat, Shepard leaned forward to meet her mate’s mouth with her own over Zaeed’s shoulder.

Garrus’ hands slipped off of hers and busied themselves pumping up and down on Zaeed’s thick cock and Shepard moaned as she felt the simulated nerves in her cock adjust to the new sensations, driving hard and slow inside Zaeed as she leaned into her mate’s kiss, her fingers digging into lean muscle.

“Oh, you feel  _ amazing _ ,” she moaned into Garrus’ mouth, and tightened her grip on Zaeed’s hips to control his movement as he moaned and pushed back onto her.

Judging by his erratic movements, he likely wouldn’t take long. And if Garrus didn’t stop making those sounds, she wouldn’t either.

Breaking off the kiss with Garrus, Shepard buried her face in Zaeed’s shoulder and picked up the pace, drinking in every sound both of her lovers made as she neared her peak. She could feel Zaeed about to come undone around her, Garrus made a movement she couldn’t see, and the  _ whimper _ it wrung from Zaeed’s throat was enough to send her over the edge. As she came, she bit down on Zaeed’s shoulder, causing him to growl loudly as he followed.

They stayed like that for a moment, both panting and leaning against Garrus, whose rumbling, aroused vocalisations threatened to send Shepard to sleep. It was just such a  _ comforting _ noise. Zaeed was just starting to stir when her omnitool gave another  _ ping _ . And then another.and another. Shepard cursed, knowing that meant Miri was likely peeved at her, which  _ definitely _ meant she was late. Again.

She pulled out of Zaeed reluctantly, and hopped down from the bar, leaving the spent and thoroughly relaxed bartender in her mate’s arms as she stripped of her cock and went searching for her pants. Finding them, she turned to find Garrus had released Zaeed’s arms and was rubbing the red marks left behind by her belt. Again, she felt a swell of affection as she grabbed her belt from the counter, muttering  _ “shit, shit, shit,” _ under her breath as she finished setting her clothes to rights. 

“Go to your meeting, I’ve got this,” Garrus said simply, and Zaeed grinned crookedly at her. 

“I like your style, Captain,” he grunted. “The old fuck-in-dash.”

“We aren’t done if you don’t want to be,” she said, warning. 

Zaeed barked a laugh. 

Shepard gave Zaeed a last lingering pat on his perfect ass and blew a kiss at the both of them over her shoulder as she turned to rush out the door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick note: we will be updating this as a series, not in chapters. So if you want to read more of this little collab, make sure you subscribe to the series


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